Come And Get Me
by GeorgiaMay
Summary: What happens when Santana's father comes home early one day to find her and Brittany making out? Santana soon finds herself desperately trying to avoid her father's attacks.. Can Brittany help her get away?


She never imagined that bare knuckles could do so much damage.

Brittany had watched enough TV shows and action movies to have an idea of what a strong punch could do – while channel surfing she once ran into a mixed martial arts match and saw the busted lip and shut left eye of a man with a name she couldn't pronounce.

What she was looking at now though, was something else entirely. It scared the life out of her.

It was Santana who had been hit. It was Santana's own father who had hit her. There was no plastic screen or suited announcer to separate her from the blood and violence.

She looked down at Santana as she lay on the floor, remorseful and crying, and she could see the skin on her cheek was torn by the friction of her father's fist.

Her face swelled right before Brittany's eyes. With each second her jaw filled with fluids that caused a sad and ugly looking asymmetry in the face of the girl she said she loved. Her beautiful, caramel skin turning an awful shade of purple and black.

Santana whimpered, "I'm sorry" over and over again as tears fell down her face and mucus from her nose ran into her mouth.

It was more reflex than anything that caused him to hit her.

They were in Santana's bed. With her parents out of town for the weekend and they indulged in a movie night in and sweet lady kisses. After a few quiet moments their breathing normalized and Santana said, "You still have your socks on?" They both laughed.

"It was a little cold in here."

"You want me to put the thermostat higher babe?"

Brittany looked her in the eyes and said, "Nah. I'm warm now." She kissed Santana's forehead and went back to staring at the ceiling as she reached over to take off the socks. She threw them across the bed where they landed on her cheerios uniform, which, during the sex, landed on her desk chair.

Lying down again she stared at the tight fitting cheerios uniform.  
It grabbed her attention and distracted her from those rare feelings of belonging and stability that she was savoring with Santana, since she always found herself searching for them in her normal everyday life.

Trying to hold on to those feelings she moved her hand up and down Santana's flat, toned stomach. Eventually though, she said, "San, I think we should tell people."

Brittany felt Santana tense under her before she let out a dry, throaty chuckle which seemed to rattle through her rib cage. "Why? It's none of their business."

Brittany bit her lip, searching Santana's face for any hint of emotion. She sighed deeply before saying, "I want to tell people that you are my girlfriend. I want to be able to hold your hand in public and kiss you in-between classes. I don't want to hide anymore, it's too confusing."

"We can't Brit.. I'm just.. I - I can't.." Santana trailed off, breaking eye contact with Brittany's sea, blue orbs.

Brittany nodded sadly in understanding, a small pout forming on her lips. "Okay, San," she said so softly that Santana had to lift her head up just to hear it.

"Come on Brit, don't pout," Santana said with a frown. Brittany's pout was the face that she could never say no to. No matter what the blonde was asking for. Brittany's pout grew bigger, knowingly. Santana shook her head vigorously. "No, Brit," she tried, but one more look at that pout and her insides turned to mush. "Fine," she huffed. "I want those things too," she admitted. "I want to be your girlfriend."

Brittany lifted her head off Santana's chest and looked at her with a slight smile and wide open eyes. "Really San?"

Santana smiled softly, tucking a stray piece of messy blonde hair behind Brittany's ear. "Yeah Brit."

"You're not just saying that because I forced you, are you?" Brittany asks with a slight frown.

"No," Santana tells her honestly, kissing Brittany gently on the cheek. "You didn't force me. I mean, I'm scared.. But with you by my side with me... What's to be scared about?" It was a small lie. Santana was terrified. She was scared of the looks she was going to get, she was scared of the slushies she was going to receive thrown in her face, she was scared of losing her spot as Captain on the cheerios, she was scared of the torments and the snickers and the talking behind her back. She was scared of everyone judging her. She wasn't so much scared for herself, she was tough and everyone knew that she could look after herself and that she wasn't afraid to cut a bitch if she had to... But she was scared for Brittany. Brittany was just so pure and innocent. Brittany wouldn't be able to deal with it.

Santana hopped out of bed and walked around the foot of it to the closet that was on Brittany's side. She opened the wooden door and pulled some clean clothes on.

"Come on Brit. I'm taking you out."

Brittany's whole face lit up and she scrambled out of bed, searching for her clothes which were scattered around the room. "Where are we going?" She asked, excitement oozing out of her.

"Breadstix," Santana replied with a smirk.

"Wait.." Brittany looked at the floor, she suddenly looked nervous. "Is this like.. a date?" Brittany asked, a hopeful gleam in her eye.

Santana smiled and skipped over until she was in front of Brittany. "Yeah babe. A real date." Brittany smiled and looked up through long eyelashes before her lips met with Santana's. A kiss which was intended to only be a peck, but lingered into something more.

"What. The. Fuck?" a deep, angry voice came from behind them. Santana instantly pulled away from Brittany, her whole body tensed up and froze. "Santana, what the hell was that?" He asked again. Brittany's eyes widen when she looks past Santana to see who is standing in the doorway.

"Shit," Santana mumbles under her breath before slowly turning around, refusing to raise her eyes to look him in the face.

"Well?" he taps his foot on the ground impatiently, waiting for a reply.

"Papa.."

"Look at me when you're talking to me, Santana!" His voice is so loud and thunderous, that it causes Santana to take a step back in shock and she slowly lifts her gaze. He had become a whole different person to the kind and caring father she knew him to be. His shining, gold eyes had twisted into a dark and gloomy black. His eyes were narrowed and his teeth clenched together, his hands fisted in rage.

"Papa, please let me explain.."

Brittany's normal calm self, was being replaced by an uncomfortable tenseness and fear. She looked at Santana's father, Peter, as he looked into his daughter's bedroom with disappointment on his face – the right corner of his mouth was raised and his head was tilted left.

He took a step forward into the room and Santana automatically took a step backwards and stepped directly in front of Brittany to shield her from what she knew was coming.

Peter's face lost all expression.

"Santana," Peter said in an angry voice. "Get over here." Reluctantly, the young Latina hurried over to her father. She stood in front of him, gazing at the floor. He lifted up her chin and she tried to focus on the floor, but her eyes met his. His fists got tight. His fists then turned into a punch, which rapidly hit her in the jaw.

The blow lifted her off the ground. She hit a wall a few feet away and collapsed on the floor. Not quiet unconscious she put her hand on her face and tried not to cry. In a slow, hushed voice she said, "Papa? I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry Papa…" She repeated the words over and over again as her father looked down at her. He was in shock over what he did, but his face was still void of emotion, and his fists were still balled up tight.

Santana looked up at Brittany and saw the terrified look in her blue eyes, her hands were clasped over her mouth as if she had tried to suffocate a scream from escaping her lips. She felt anger build up inside her as she looked at the expression etched into her best friends face. It was an expression that should never, ever be seen on such an innocent face.

Santana felt her hands clench at her sides.

_Fight back! _A voice was screaming at her in her head.

_You fucking coward! Fight back!_

_Don't let him win. _

_If not for you, do it for Brittany. _

_Fight back!_

_Stand up for yourself! You're stronger than this. Don't let him touch you again._

_You're all bite and no bark, Lopez!_

Santana stood up carefully, her legs wobbling beneath her. She had to make a decision. Fight back or keep Brittany safe. Fighting back would just make Brittany more scared, but it would make her feel better to hit her father like he had hit her. But he was stronger than she was and he was infinitely bigger than her.

"Brittany," she tried to keep her voice calm as she spoke so that Brittany didn't panic. "Go outside, I'll meet you there."

When Santana didn't hear movement behind her, she spoke again, not breaking her eyes from her father's. "Brittany," her voice was firmer this time, but still calm. "Go!"

"San.." her voice was so small and sad, it made Santana instantly want to pull her in to a hug. "I won't leave you." Santana could tell Brittany was close to tears and that she was scared to leave Santana alone with her father, but the thought of Brittany having to watch this any longer broke Santana's heart.

"It's okay, B," Santana said softly. "I'll be okay."

Out of the corner of her eye, Santana watched Brittany scurry towards the door. She saw Brittany take one last glance in her direction before making a quick exit.  
Santana seemed to relax a little bit knowing Brittany was now safe.

"It's not right, Santana," her father said, breaking the tense silence which had filled the room.

"What's not right?" Santana spat angrily, even though she already knew what his answer would be.

"You and Brittany," he clenched his fists again and Santana held her breath and planted her feet firmly on the ground, prepared to make a run for it if she had to.

Her father seemed to notice her stance because he said, "don't you dare go anywhere." Santana held a hand up in defeat.

"She's my best friend papa," her voice came out in a strangled whisper. Her father chuckled. A loud, rattling chuckle which sent a shiver down Santana's spine.

"Best friend's don't do things like.. like _that," _he said acidly. "I thought we raised you right, Santana."

"You did papa!" Santana pleaded. "This is just who I am! I didn't choose to be like this!"

"You did choose this, Santana. Secrets are secrets for a reason," he replied. His voice was still angry, but now it had a hint of sadness mixed in it.

"What, so you would have preferred that I just pretended that I was straight and been unhappy?" Santana was close to tears. She couldn't believe that he own father was doing this to her. He was supposed to love her no matter what.

"It's not right. It's a sin! It's _disgusting." _

Santana felt the rage bubble up inside her again. Her own father had just called her disgusting. Her own father. The man she used to look up to when she was little. Who hugged her when she was upset, who taught her how to ride a bike, who took her to the pool for swimming lessons, who took her to school on her very first day and kissed her on the forehead and told her that everything was going to be okay. It all seemed like a lie to her now.

"Screw you!" She shouted. A stray tear slipped out of the corner of her eye, but she quickly brushed it away.

He took a step towards her causing her heart to pound even faster in her chest. "Don't you dare talk to me like that!" He bellowed.

Santana know better than to say anything back after that. She had never seen her father this angry before and it scared her to death. Mainly because she couldn't predict what was about to happen. She lowered her head. "I'm sorry papa."

He took another step forward then, raised his hand and slapped her hard across the face. Her eyes instantly welled up with tears because he struck her exactly where the bruise from earlier was.

She fought desperately to keep the tears at bay. If he saw her cry, he would win. She couldn't let him see her cry. She blinked furiously, forcing the tears away.

He didn't say anything else. He just threw his hands up in the air before he left the room, slamming his bedroom door behind him.

Santana took a deep breath before sprinting down the stairs, out the front door and straight in to Brittany's arms.

xx

_He would apologize for hitting her. She would accept his apology. She would lie to people about what happened to her face. He would tell her that he loved her. She would need to believe it. She would believe it._

_He would hit her again._


End file.
